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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25024129">Li Reis</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/preciouslittletime/pseuds/preciouslittletime'>preciouslittletime</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Read My Mind [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>SEVENTEEN (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Body Worship, Inspired by Real Events, Intercrural Sex, Jeonghan Topping for Once In His Life, M/M, Quote on Quote The Stage Door Fic, Seokmin's Thighs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:28:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,893</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25024129</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/preciouslittletime/pseuds/preciouslittletime</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeonghan comes to opening night of Xcalibur despite what Seokmin says</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lee Seokmin | DK/Yoon Jeonghan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Read My Mind [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1812025</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>152</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Li Reis</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Li Reis is taken from how "The King" is spelled in 13th century French because I definitely went back to read the Lais of Marie De France while writing this. We all have our hobbies. </p><p>I have officially made this a series with other Seokhan works because they've unintentionally become their only little universe. I hope to add more at some point.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wherefore I liken love nowadays unto summer and winter; </p><p>for like as the one is hot and the other cold, so fareth love nowadays.</p><p><em>                Le Morte d’Arthur </em>, Sir Thomas Malory</p><p>-</p><p>It’s a different feeling altogether.</p><p>Seokmin thinks there’s something to be said about the electric shock of adrenaline in your veins. Most of the time he attributes it to anxiety, and about half of the time to the experience of performing on stage in front of a crowd. He’s used to it the way you get used to a stiff knee from an injury that never healed. Uncomfortable, but an afterthought.</p><p><em> Acting </em> in front of a crowd manages to be a discernible experience in a way he isn’t expecting. The closest he's come to it is a play his class puts on when he's eight. He's given a small role, six lines of dialogue at most. His mother is in the front row with a camcorder and a smile on her face. He forgets his big line and he cries in the car the whole way home. She buys him an ice cream from the store before they pull into the driveway and he tells her he's moving to the tundra to live with the polar bears so nobody can ever find him. She tells him that there are no polar bears in the tundra and promises that the boys at school won't make fun of him. They do anyway. </p><p>He doesn't forget a line, but his success in delivering them is dubious. That's the main difference between acting and singing he thinks. There isn't any instant feedback. The polite clapping of theater-goers is worlds away from a concert where people are screaming his name, chanting along to songs. By comparison, the response from the audience all night feels tepid. Each time the stage goes dark and there’s the smattering of applause indicating respectful appreciation of the skill of the actors. Nothing that singles his performance out as being particularly <em>good</em>. He supplies their reaction in the dark wings of the stage during intermission. The audience is right, he's not sure what he's doing up there either.</p><p>But when curtain call comes and he prances out to center stage, he basks in the warm spotlight. It hits him like sunshine, makes his skin feel hot and the sensation of adrenaline tingles in bones. His hands are outstretched, head tipped back until he can see the crew hanging their hands over beams on the catwalk above him. He closes his eyes, let’s the applause hit him like a tidal wave, gets sucked into the undertow of artistic recognition. </p><p>When he opens his eyes and the audience is on their feet he feels something singular. Something that he gets to have possession of just for himself. A secret, quiet consolation of a hundred million tiny fears that take little bites out of him every hour of every day. As if a big warm hand is on his head, patting his hair, telling him “I’m proud of you, you’re good enough”. </p><p>He doesn’t cry on stage, at least. He says a silent prayer to whatever higher power happens to be listening. He does cry later. Big fat tears when he leans against a prop wall and hugs a few of his co-stars in solidarity. It smears the make-up under his eyes and reactivates the clay-smell of the stage foundation caked on his cheeks. There’s eyeliner smudged on the knuckles of his thumbs and he’s smiling so big and bright he might just let his mouth get stuck that way.</p><p>-</p><p>His hands are still shaking on the walk back to his dressing room. The underbelly of the theater is hot and stuffy and makes him sweat in his pleather boots. Cast and crew members stop him several dozen times before he can get to his dressing room he shares with the actor who’s playing Lancelot. </p><p>The thing is, he’d had a specific conversation with his bandmates as a whole. He’s firm about it, in his own sort of way, because realistically there’s never been a bigger pushover than him. But, he gets the point across though. He <em> does </em> want them to come and see him. Just not on opening night. He needs time to handle the potential fallout of being a consummate failure - which seemed more and more like a possibility every day leading up to opening night. The sneaking suspicion that maybe the casting choice was a ploy to generate publicity. That he was never actually <em> good </em> enough to play a lead and the critics were going to pick apart his performance like meat off a bone.</p><p>So, he’s both surprised and unsurprised to see Jeonghan leaning on his dressing room door when he makes it around the corner. He’s trying to look inconspicuous as evidenced by the choice of a bucket hat slung down over his eyes. The big giant strawberry on his Gucci shirt, however, tells a different story. The red of the print matches the color of his lips.</p><p>“Jeonghan?” </p><p>He looks up, face clean, but puffy around the eyes. Seokmin knows him well enough now that he knows he’s been crying. He gets a weary look in his eyes that fills their shine. It’s similar to how he looks when he’s overtired, on his umpteenth cup of coffee, getting frustrated over the littlest things. It throws him to know that the show made Jeonghan cry.</p><p>Seokmin nearly falls on his ass when Jeonghan pulls him into a hug. Their chests whacking together slaps the air out of him, knocks a laugh out of him.</p><p>“I told you not to come,” he tries to argue, but it’s fruitless. He’s not upset that Jeonghan came. He’s embarrassed, mostly. And he’s got a hundred butterflies swarming in his stomach at the thought Jeonghan would show up at all. As if he has some reason to think Jeonghan doesn’t like him. Who knows? Maybe it’s all a ruse. Maybe Jeonghan has actually completely repulsed by him, but he’s good at fucking him enough for Jeonghan not to care.</p><p>“When have I ever listened to a single thing you’ve said?” Jeonghan’s lips are right up against his ear. There are too many people around to dwell on the sensation. </p><p>“But I <em> asked </em>you all not to come. Not until I was sure I did well.” </p><p>When Jeonghan pulls away his eyes are razor sharp, narrowed in a warning for Seokmin not to say anything self-deprecating. “You were incredible. What were you so worried about?”</p><p>Seokmin shifts on his feet, feeling the attention burning a hole in him. He laughs it off, reaches behind Jeonghan to the door knob, and walks into his dressing room.</p><p>The space is small and only moderately more air conditioned than the hallway. It’s enough to make the sweat in his hair cool in a way that has him shivering. Although it might also be Jeonghan closing the door, trying to catch his eyes in the reflection of the mirror, closing in on Seokmin’s space in that predatory way that always sends Seokmin off-balance.</p><p>“You made me cry, you know?” Jeonghan says. </p><p>“I noticed, I'm sorry. Which part got you?” Seokmin asks with a smirk. Trying to remain impassive. Realistically, he’s on tenterhooks waiting to hear Jeonghan’s review. Realistically, Jeonghan’s opinion matters the most. He leans down to start stripping off the costume boots, setting them aside with the rest of his wardrobe. Jeonghan pokes a finger into the skin of Seokmin’s flattened back. </p><p>“It wasn’t just a part.”</p><p>When Seokmin stands up straight, barefooted on the linoleum floor, Jeonghan kisses him. He’s got two flat palms on Seokmin's cheeks and two thumbs smearing at the putty lipstick on the corners of Seokmin’s mouth. It’s unhurried and urgent all at once. Like Jeonghan is trying to kiss through him, but lips parting lips like Jeonghan wants to savor him. It sends such a chill through Seokmin’s body that he shudders and Jeonghan moves to grab at the edges of his shirt.</p><p>“If you mess up this shirt, there is a very temperamental costume designer who will quite literally kill you,” Seokmin mumbles against Jeonghan’s lips. He doesn’t move to pull away.</p><p>Jeonghan leans back just enough to lick at Seokmin’s smile. “You don’t want me to kiss you?”</p><p>“She’s a whole head taller than you, Jeonghan. You should also be afraid.”</p><p>There’s a look in Jeonghan’s eyes that he’s come to recognize over the years. Something that says <em> I’m not done with you yet </em>. And no matter how many times he’s seen it, it always sends a zap of excitement down into his belly. </p><p>He has that look the entire time Seokmin is undressing and god if it doesn’t give Seokmin a tremor. He wants to look away. Ignore it altogether. But he can’t help catching it in the mirror when he’s trying to put the buttons through the holes and his geometric pattern shirt. Jeonghan lounges on one of the chairs in the room, one leg crossed over his other knee, head resting on his fist. He sucks on his lip, rubs at his eyes, darts his eyes over parts of Seokmin that he’d rather Jeonghan not pay particular attention to. </p><p>“I cried at the whole thing,” Jeonghan says suddenly. </p><p>At this point he’s looking down at his phone and doesn’t bother looking up while he thumbs out a text message. Seokmin turns and rests his back against the counter of the vanity. </p><p>“That bad, huh?” He plasters on a wide grin. Using his teeth like a shield. </p><p>Jeonghan makes a disgusted noise and the rooms shutters into silence again. Seokmin doesn't want to move so he can coax out whatever Jeonghan clearly wants to say. Eventually, he shrugs. “Just proud.”</p><p>They catch each other's eyes and Jeonghan looks a little unsure for what might be the first time in his life. Well, maybe not the <em> first </em> time, but it’s certainly a rare enough occurrence that Seokmin feels the words catch in his throat at whatever witty response abandons him the second he notices it. </p><p>Jeonghan doesn’t struggle with intimacy the same way Seokmin does. Seokmin finds it easy to touch, encourage, get into someone's immediate space and affirm them with his energy. He suspects, based on the meticulous collection of evidence over the years, that Jeonghan finds it easy to be <em> intimate </em>. He never minds the press of lips, the slide of bodies, the affirmation of a hitched breath or a whimper. But he does struggle with the intimacy of sustained eye contact when he’s being sincere, or with giving a compliment that doesn’t come sandwiched between a sardonic delivery and a general sense aloofness.</p><p>It’s stunning to see Jeonghan struggle with anything. Seokmin feels drenched in warmth. Pride from pride. He’s beaming with it.</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>Jeonghan stands and lets his hands rest on Seokmin’s hips, but he keeps his eyes trained on the dip between Seokmin’s collarbones. “You’re so different now.”</p><p>“Different how?”</p><p>In response, Jeonghan gives a noncommittal shrug, a pull of his lips to one corner, and another kiss to Seokmin’s hinged open mouth. “You’re just not the boy I first met.”</p><p>“I hope not,” Seokmin says when he leans in to drink the praises from Jeonghan’s mouth. They're lost in it. Jeonghan slides his hands down the silky material of Seokmin's shirt, grabs hold of his hips and presses their bodies together. Seokmin hums, grabs hold of Jeonghan's ass and makes sure he can't pull away until Seokmin is good and ready to let him go.</p><p>They part quickly when Seokmin’s dressing-room-mate knocks on the door, trailed by a crew member ready to reset the costumes on the rack for the next show. Jeonghan is pleasant when he introduces himself to Seokmin’s co-star and Seokmin lets his arm rest against Jeonghan’s back. He admires Jeonghan’s blunt-teeth smile and the blonde mop on his head from the side almost like this is the only position he should ever watch him from.</p><p>A thought nestles itself into Seokmin’s head like a seed that’s planted in soil not quite ready for growth. The thought blooms, takes root, makes him wish the little world he's come up with in his mind was real. A place where things are different and Seokmin can introduce Jeonghan to people with a preamble. </p><p>-</p><p>They take a picture outside of his dressing room and the images are discussed thoroughly in the back seat of the car on the way to dinner. </p><p>Jeonghan hadn’t come alone and the whole car ride to the restaurant there’s praises filling up until he might float away. Jeonghan joins in between considering different photo filters, Seokmin reaches over and presses one that puts a big pink bow in both their hair. </p><p>“You’ve got a career ahead of you,” their manager says. “You really do.”</p><p>Seokmin feels like he’s filled with helium, ready to be pinned up to the ceiling and unable to come back down. </p><p>He holds Jeonghan’s hand in the darkness of the backseat, against the filtering light of warm streetlamps and tinted windows. Their hands intertwined blink into existence every few seconds and Jeonghan is twisting up a smile at a filter where he’s got devil horns. </p><p>“You’re going to get asked to do this more,” their manager says. “We’re putting you in another acting class.”</p><p>Jeonghan squeezes his hand and Seokmin feels grounded. He imagines himself in a future that’s always felt hazy, undetermined. There’s never been clarity in the way Seokmin imagines himself at all. Even in the present. The feeling will probably be gone by morning, but Jeonghan gives him a reassuring smile that makes him think that it might last until <em> late </em> morning at the least.</p><p>-</p><p>At dinner Jeonghan keeps the line of his thighs pressed tight to Seokmin’s. The restaurant is far too nice for Seokmin to have his eyebrows drawn in dark like clown paint. Jeonghan has hat hair. They nestle in a booth together like doves roosting on a powerline. Jeonghan orders something expensive, Seokmin respectfully picks something more moderately priced.</p><p>Jeonghan eats off his plate. Seokmin lets Jeonghan feed him a particularly good piece of dessert. He notes the way Jeonghan watches his lips close around the spoon. </p><p>But, he feels himself talking too much.</p><p>It starts like this. Somebody will ask him something about himself - <em> Seokmin what’s your favorite color? Or Seokmin you did great as the lead role in a large scale musical production please tell us more? </em> And then gets talking and feels the microscope lens of eyes on him looking more and more disinterested by the second. That makes him nervous, so he tries to fill the silence with anything, something to ensure that he’s not as half as boring as everyone thinks he is. So he just talks about himself even more and they look bored <em> even more </em>, but how is he supposed to stop? He’s killed the natural flow of conversation and the silence would be worse and-</p><p>Jeonghan knits their fingers together under the table and grins at him. “You looked like a real king, you know?”</p><p>“Did I?” </p><p>“Yes. Could have fooled me.”</p><p>-</p><p>There are approximately 7,376 questions lined up at the front door when they arrive home. </p><p>They’re so full from dinner that Jeonghan is slumping himself over Seokmin’s shoulders with all his weight. Too stuffed with overpriced side dishes to manage something as trying as walking 10 meters. He presses his nose into Seokmin’s sweaty hairline at the nape of his neck, still stiff with hairspray.</p><p>Soonyoung bowls them over the second the door swings open. He occupies around 6,438 of the questions being asked all at once.</p><p>“Jeonghan got to go?!” Soonyoung protests once he sees Jeonghan attached to Seokmin’s back. “Why did he get to go?”</p><p>“I didn’t <em> ask </em> him to,” Seokmin protests. Seokmin tries to telepathically communicate with Soonyoung through his eyes and it’s probably too successful because when Soonyoung realizes what he’s saying he smirks and taps his head like he’s playing charades. </p><p>Nobody except for Soonyoung knows about Jeonghan. Which was an accident. What isn’t an accident is the way he admits to Soongyoung that it’s not just sex the way it is with some of the other guys who hook up to relieve an itch they can’t scratch alone. They’re both completely drunk when they have that conversation and Seokmin cries into Soonyoung’s shoulder. He never uses the “L” word, but Soonyoung <em> has </em> to be perceptive enough to understand that it’s implied.</p><p>“You asked us <em> not </em> to go,” Jihoon observes Jeonghan slinking out from behind Seokmin’s frame.</p><p>“Yes and I went anyway,” Jeonghan says with a roll of his eyes. “He wasn’t about to do opening night without anyone there to cheer him on.”</p><p>Seungcheol nudges Jeonghan’s ribs and Seokmin clocks the sharp movement, the threat in Jeonghan's eyes. He ponders what it means before Soonyoung is grabbing his hand and dragging him into the kitchen. "My king, if you would follow me please?"</p><p>They had a little cake made with a fondant yellow crown on top and Seokmin shouldn’t eat another bite, but he does. They tell him they’re proud and Jeonghan hangs back behind the bulk of them rushing to suck up every little detail Seokmin has to offer. </p><p>He’s half exhausted, half energized when he acts out the blocking of “Excalibur”, using the couch as the stage-made mountain he has to climb in the show. Every few moments, he stops to recount a particular memory from the performance. “Oh and in the last song I tripped and nobody saw.” or “Did I say about the thing with the musical cue?”</p><p>The boys are all perched like decorations around the room, a makeshift audience like the stuffed animals he’d perform to as a kid, and Seokmin is center stage on the sofa. They cheer him on as he hits a strangled note from a song. Mingyu takes a video of him putting the fondant crown on his head and behaving the way he does in the coronation scene. Jeonghan watches from the corner of the room with fond eyes and Seokmin glances back every so often to make sure he’s not seeing things. </p><p>Jeonghan pretends to be his Guinevere and Seungkwan stops them with a sputtering laugh before they get to kiss.</p><p>-</p><p>It’s nearly one in the morning before he finally gets to take a shower. Jeonghan is half asleep in his bed and Seokmin is still bursting with energy.</p><p>There’s clothes on the floor he’s supposed to have put away weeks ago and a half drunk beer on the nightstand. Jeonghan looks as soft as silk buried in the blankets of his unmade bed. His chest is bare and he drifts his fingernails back and forth over his sternum in a daze.</p><p>Seokmin has a towel wrapped around his waist and he’s rustling through his drawers when Jeonghan finally stirs.</p><p>“Don’t you think it’s silly to get dressed if I’m just going to take your clothes off?”</p><p>“Oh?” Seokmin whips around, wriggles his eyebrows. “You think that I’m that easy?”</p><p>Jeonghan scoffs. “And here I am trying to celebrate your acting debut.”</p><p>Seokmin throws his towel open the air and runs full-tilt, dick out, fast into Jeonghan’s direction. He jumps on the bed and grabs hold of Jeonghan’s wrists with both hands. His soft cock resting on Jeonghan’s stomach.</p><p>“This what you wanted?”</p><p>Jeonghan is laughing way too loud and Seokmin doesn’t care if it wakes up the others, he’s so happy to hear Jeonghan really laugh. Not that <em> I’m trying to look cool in an interview </em> laugh. His real laugh. Which sounds a lot like the way laughter is spelled in English. <em> Ha Ha Ha. </em> It’s so utterly hideous and Seokmin wants to hear it every day of his life.</p><p>Seokmin slides off of him in a lump, his stomach muscles twitching with the fit of laughter. His hair is too wet to be laying in bed like this, and he’s far too naked. It should make him uncomfortable like it used to. He just feels cold.</p><p>When he reaches for the blankets Jeonghan stops him. “Wait. Can I just look at you?”</p><p>“Look at me?” There’s that razors in the bloodstream feeling of anxiety again.</p><p>“Yes. Look at you.” </p><p>Jeonghan rolls to his side under the blankets so he can rest his chin on Seokmin’s shoulder. Seokmin can’t see his eyes, but he imagines they’re heading down the same path as his hand.</p><p>He starts at Seokmin’s collar bones, where he had been looking earlier in the night, and he drums his fingertips against the protruding bones down into the divot between them. They slide up over his neck, to the angle of his chin, pressing against his lips. Seokmin’s heart is like hummingbird wings in his chest and he purses his lips against Jeonghan’s fingernail.</p><p>“I like your nose,” Jeonghan says quietly. He lets his index finger press against the bridge, down to the pointed tip. When Seokmin smiles the sharp edge of it only exaggerates down towards his upper lip.</p><p>“My nose?” Seokmin laughs.</p><p>“Yes,” Jeonghan says assertively. “It gets pointier when you smile. It’s one of my favorite things about you.”</p><p>Seokmin rolls the words around his head, testing out their weight. He decides, eventually, that they make him want to sink into the pillows. It’s frightening even to consider looking into Jeonghan’s eyes the way they peer up towards the object of their focus. Seokmin stares at the ceiling. </p><p>The fingers move across his brow, into his shaggy wet hair. Little beads of water are still sliding down the strands and Jeonghan rings them out in the webs of his fingers. “And what your hair looks like when nobody has touched it yet.”</p><p>Seokmin laughs because he’s not sure what to do. “Why are you saying all this?”</p><p>“Because you’re handsome.” The response is airy and not quite committed and completely Jeonghan. </p><p>There’s a blush creeping up under his cheeks when Jeonghan starts touching the bones of his chest, plucking at his ribs. He touches every freckle, every birthmark like he knows exactly where to find them. Seokmin has one arm slung around Jeonghan’s back and his hand is twitching each time Jeonghan finds a new spot to explore. He circles his fingertips around a nipple, places a featherlight kiss there and grazes his bottom teeth against the bud.</p><p>Seokmin stutters out a sigh. His mind is moving too fast for him to even categorize the thoughts. Some jump out. Negative ones that tell him he should make Jeonghan stop. That this is embarrassing and he doesn’t like it and he just wants to fuck fast and quick like they thought they would and go to bed. Positive ones that glow under Jeonghan’s touch telling him this is everything he ever wanted and Jeonghan thinks he’s beautiful and he needs to take mental photographs of all the places Jeonghan has touched so he won’t forget how they’ve become monuments under his eyes.</p><p>Then Jeonghan is sliding away from him and coming to rest on his knees between Seokmin’s parted thighs. He studies the arch of Seokmin’s feet, the tendons that connect his heel to his calf, the knob of his ankle. The touch there tickles and he’s so nervous that the laugh echoes around the room, louder than he wants to be.</p><p>Jeonghan smiles at him. “Every part of you is perfect. It doesn’t make any sense.” His hand travels through the dusting of hair on the backs of his legs to the undersides of his knees. Seokmin’s mouth is so dry and he’s desperate to look back at the ceiling, but Jeonghan is commanding his attention.</p><p>“Jeonghan,” is all Seokmin can think to say. It’s half a warning and half a plea. He feels like an ant and Jeonghan is the sun spearing through the lens of a magnifying glass.</p><p>“Stop being so stubborn, Seokminnie,” he chides. His lips are curled up but his eyes are twinkling in the muted lamplight. There’s a thudding in Seokmin’s chest he’s sure is so strong that it’s shaking the bed.</p><p>“I’m not good at - “</p><p>“Taking compliments?” Jeonghan finishes. “I know you’re always too busy giving them.”</p><p>“I’ve never heard you complain about me giving <em>you</em> compliments.” Seokmin reiterates all the things he finds attractive on Jeonghan’s body whenever he can. It’s comfortable for him to look at Jeonghan, say the first thing that comes to mind. Jeonghan will say nice things, too. When they're lying in a hotel room bed or when he's coming down off an orgasm. Only Seokmin throws them out of his head as fast as they enter it.</p><p>Jeonghan readjusts himself to lie on his belly. With a smirk he licks the soft skin behind Seokmin’s knee and then kisses his kneecap. “I think I like your thighs more than anything though.”</p><p>Seokmin <em> has </em> to laugh at that. He squirms when Jeonghan grabs onto the tops of them with both hands and presses his fingers into the flesh. He knows his thighs are thicker than the rest of him. They’re disproportionate to the rest of his slight frame, and he’s resigned himself to getting costumes tailored to accommodate them. When all the moments are added together, there's probably been whole months of his life that he’s ticked time away hating them the way they look in the mirror.</p><p>“Now I know you’re talking bullshit.” His eyes drift down to Jeonghan who’s got his head cocked to the side, a frustrated little snarl on the bridge of his nose.</p><p>“What are you talking about?”</p><p>“I hate them.”</p><p>“I love them.”</p><p>With that, Jeonghan kisses along the inside seam of his right thigh and Seokmin’s breath catches at the way it sends goosebumps all over his skin. Without realizing, he’s tangled his fingers in Jeonghan’s peroxide hair and he’s lifted up that leg so Jeonghan can get better access to the spot. </p><p>They look at each other in surprise, because <em> goodness </em>neither of them expected that reaction. Jeonghan twists the corners of his mouth into a devilish smirk and then dips his head back down to lick a stripe up his inner thigh, nose bumping up against his cock. Seokmin is reeling from it. Jeonghan wastes what feels like hours kissing his inner thighs and Seokmin is shivering under the wet, hot feeling of his mouth. It’s an effort, but he manages to stay relatively quiet if he bites down on his lip just so. </p><p>But when Jeonghan sinks the sharp cut of his teeth into his inner left thigh he lets out a strangled cry. His hands grip into Jeonghan’s hair, pulling hard enough to make Jeonghan grab hold of one of his wrists in pain.</p><p>“S-sorry,” Seokmin huffs. He pulls both of his hands away and throws his forearm over his eyes. He’s burning, his skin suddenly too tight, body threatening to burst. It’s partially from embarrassment, partially from shock, wholly from arousal.</p><p>“Seokmin, look at me,” Jeonghan whispers. </p><p>It hurts to swallow and he pulls his arms away to see Jeonghan’s smiling mouth hovering over the spot where redness has bloomed on his skin from the imprint of his teeth. Jeonghan gives him a quiet laugh, heavy lidded eyes. “You’re so sensitive here,” he says. “Watch me,” he says.</p><p>Jeonghan’s teeth sinking into the meat of his thighs is too much. He bites him all over. Sometimes just the lightest pressure of his skin trapped between his teeth. Sometimes forceful and borderline painful and he soothes those spots with the pretty press of his lips against the bruise. There’s going to be marks that nobody will see - secret spots that belong to Jeonghan and only the two of them will know they’re there. He’s shifting on the mattress, canting his hips up into nothing, desperately trying to relieve how unbearably hard he is. </p><p>“Lay on your side,” Jeonghan says and his voice is raspy and low. He reaches out and searches for the lube Seokmin keeps in the drawer by his bed, digs through the phone charger wires and vitamin bottles to find it.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Seokmin asks, but he has an idea of what Jeonghan is about to do. It’s confirmed when Jeonghan settles in behind him, wraps an arm around Seokmin’s chest possessively, holds his hip still with his other hand, slides the slick head of his cock through the pressed together flesh of his thighs. </p><p>Seokmin pants, holding Jeonghan’s hand at his chest and listens for the way Jeonghan moans softly behind him. Every nerve is overwrought. He can feel Jeonghan’s hair tickling between his shoulder blades and the starchy texture of his sheets on his ribs. He can feel the notch of the head of Jeonghan’s cock press through his thighs and the way it teases at his balls with each pass.</p><p>“Do you like it?” Jeonghan breathes against his ear. He’s moved closer and Seokmin twitches at the hot breath against his damp hair.</p><p>All he can manage is a nod, a high keen when Jeonghan sets a molasses rhythm of his hips. He never knew this was a thing for him. He’d never tried it, not with Jeonghan and obviously not with anyone else. It’s a new discovery. A new discovery together. Seokmin wants to scream at how good it feels. </p><p>Jeonghan fucks his thighs and Seokmin is scrambling a hand the sheets and Jeonghan is <em> fucking </em> him. He could count the amount of times Jeonghan topped on one hand and they were all from years ago when they first started experimenting with each other. They'd settled on their preference, something they’d negotiated along time ago. Seokmin twists his neck so he can catch a glimpse of Jeonghan’s face.</p><p>He’s got his eyes closed, long lashes resting on his cheeks. His blonde hair is mussed by the pillow and bottom lip fat and red from being caught between his teeth. He must sense Seokmin is looking because he snaps his eyes open after a few seconds of Seokmin’s gaze on him. Seokmin is so consistently stunned by him it makes his chest tight.</p><p>“Will you fuck me?” Seokmin asks and with the question feels like a weight strapped to his chest while he’s just jumped out of a plane. </p><p>Jeonghan gives him a strained smile. “Am I not doing that?”</p><p>“Do it for real.” Seokmin searches his eyes and he knows he’s being too sincere. He knows when he gets this way Jeonghan starts to build up a wall between them brick by brick. But this time Jeonghan doesn’t. He just nods slowly.</p><p>“Whatever you want.”</p><p>Seokmin’s flat on his back again and his thighs are a mess with lube and Jeonghan’s opening him with three fingers. It burns and he’s not used to it and his spine feels like it’s on fire. But he’s got to keep his hand clasped tight over his mouth to keep from being too loud at how <em> good </em> feels to have Jeonghan’s fingers crooked inside him. Jeonghan’s other palm soothing up and down his inner thigh and the slick mess he’s made there. Jeonghan’s soft voice telling him: “Seokmin, you’re so tight.” “Seokmin, relax it’s okay, you’re doing so good.”</p><p>Jeonghan looks mesmerized by the way his fingers disappear inside him. Seokmin strains up as best as he can to watch, arms barely holding him up enough to see. </p><p>He wants to cry when Jeonghan tenderly spreads his legs further than they can go and presses the blunt head of his cock against his entrance. Not from the pain, but from the gentle way Jeonghan rubs the skin taught over his ribs to calm him. Feeling full isn’t a sensation he’s accustomed to, but it’s heavy and comforting in a way he hasn’t experienced before. He understands why Jeonghan babbles under his breath when Seokmin pounds into him with his face buried into pillows.</p><p>Jeonghan leans down and kisses him sloppy. Seokmin uses too much teeth because he can’t manage to get his jaw closed enough and he’s panting so hard into Jeonghan’s mouth he feels lightheaded. It's an eternity and a half before Jeonghan is in him to the hilt. Seokmin cups his cheeks and laughs.</p><p>“Is this weird?”</p><p>Jeonghan worries his lip with his two front teeth. “It’s different. Do you like it? Does it feel good?”</p><p>“I think I understand why you like it.” </p><p>They both laugh and Jeonghan’s arms are shaking where they’re bracketed around Seokmin’s head. Seokmin smooths his hands over them.</p><p>“But do you like it?” Jeonghan asks. For the second time tonight, Jeonghan looks unsure. Sometimes Seokmin has to remind himself that they both don't really know much about sex outside of what they've learned from each other. Despite the bravado, Jeonghan is just as clueless at he is, he's just significantly better at hiding it.</p><p>“Yeah,” Seokmin answers. “Yeah. You feel so good inside me.”</p><p>Jeonghan seems to remember himself, shaking his head so the uneasy expression falls off his face. “Just wait.”</p><p>With that he slides out and Seokmin’s sucks in a breath in time with his movement. When he snaps his hips back up into him, the breath huffs out all at once. Seokmin can feel the way his eyes are wide, his mouth his hanging open. Jeonghan grins at him and Seokmin should have taken a picture of Jeonghan not looking cocky because it was obviously short lived.</p><p>Seokmin can’t believe how much he enjoys the sensation of Jeonghan fucking him. It’s different than when he’s on top, for obvious reasons. Also, because of the way Jeonghan moves his hips differently, they’re narrow and swivel and fit <em>just</em> <em>so</em> between Seokmin’s thighs to get deep. Not like when he’s on top and he’s got to contort Jeonghan’s back just to hit the right spot.</p><p>“I don’t like that you’re better at this than me,” Seokmin quips between a moan. His fingers are tangled back into the sheets so he can anchor himself down.</p><p>“We both know that’s not true,” Jeonghan sighs. He’s picking up his pace now, brows pressed together in concentration. “You’ve completely ruined me for anyone else.”</p><p>Seokmin tries to catch the words between his fingers before they float away, but Jeonghan is snapping his hips up relentlessly, stroking his cock. He knows he doesn’t look dignified in the slightest because he can’t keep his mouth closed or his eyes from rolling into the back of his head. It’s like waves rushing over him and a heavy undertow. Leaving him reeling beneath the water so he doesn’t know which direction is up.</p><p>“You're so perfect. Look at you,” Jeonghan grinds out. He's stomach is flexing with effort and Seokmin is sliding further and further up the bed. While Seokmin uses his lower body, Jeonghan uses his entire weight to get as deep as he possibly can. Seokmin throws one hand behind his head and grips hold of the headboard so he doesn't bump his head against it. </p><p>“I’m gonna come,” Jeonghan says as his eyelashes flutter.</p><p>It’s a heaven send to hear, because Seokmin has been holding back and he's starting to lose a grip on reality. He refocuses himself on Jeonghan’s face. Which manages to be pretty pink hues and a soft mouth when he chases on the heels of his orgasm. He’s got the far away look in his eyes, but they’re trained on Seokmin’s eyes. He isn’t sure if either of them are making noise, all he knows is that his ears are ringing and his throat is closed up and his jaw is locked open. He feels so full, like the space that is his body is struggling to contain just him, let alone Jeonghan.</p><p>The directionless feeling of being in suspended of water falls away. He’s tumbling, tumbling and then slammed with the force of coming. His whole body arches and Jeonghan's hand is relentless on his cock until he's sure he's made him come as hard as he clearly intended to. His head is still submerged, though, and he can feel Jeonghan fucking into him without grace until he hears him shout.</p><p>He blinks bleary eyes to the top of Jeonghan’s blonde hair, his forehead digging into Seokmin’s chest.</p><p>“Well then,” Seokmin laughs and he feels like he's got a concussion from coming as hard as he did. "That was something, huh?</p><p>Jeonghan doesn’t respond, just rag-dolls his body to the side in a heap. He’s breathing hard and ragged. Seokmin’s body is exhausted, but his mind is sharp and awake. Jeonghan mumbles something behind closed lips.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I said, did you like it?”  Jeonghan sounds like he’s half asleep and looks as much when he raises his torso off the mattress to sit up straight. </p><p>Seokmin can feel Jeonghan’s come leaking out of him and it’s filthy and he shudders. “Loved it.”</p><p>Jeonghan retrieves Seokmin’s towel from his shower, cleans himself and then between Seokmin’s legs. He keeps looking at Seokmin too long, too deeply. Seokmin is oversensitive and the terrycloth on any part of his skin feels like sandpaper. Jeonghan kisses him in little pecks and Seokmin takes them to be little apologies.</p><p>“Don’t expect that all the time,” Jeonghan says as they’re cuddled up against each other in bed. The covers are tucked around them as they lay face to face, legs tangled. </p><p>“Don't expect what, you fucking my thighs or...?” Seokmin grins as he traces patterns between the notches of Jeonghan’s spine. "Cause we discovered something today, Jeonghan. And now I'm going to be insatiable."</p><p>“Topping,” Jeonghan says in a bratty mumble. “Too much work.”</p><p>Seokmin’s eyes are closed and he chuckles sleepily. It’s a shock to find out how much receiving can take it out of you. He feels like an asshole for ever questioning Jeonghan’s stamina. “You didn’t have to.”</p><p>“Mm. Wanted to make you happy though. You deserved it.”</p><p>When he opens his eyes, Jeonghan is looking at him with an expression he’s unfamiliar with. It’s almost painful to look at him with such an openness in his face, a sparkle of adoration in his eyes. Seokmin’s heart jumps and flips and cheers at the idea of it.</p><p>“I’m so proud of you.” Jeonghan sighs. “You really were incredible, Seokmin.” </p><p>"Taking dick?"</p><p>Jeonghan swats his chest. "Don't be an idiot, you know what I mean."</p><p>The sincerity in Jeonghan’s voice makes him beam bright. It’s quiet and reserved for the two of them. Better than anything else he’s said the entire night, and all of those other things only manage to steady his footing on the words. As if Jeonghan had been building up confidence in him with the intention of this to sit atop it.</p><p>“You know, when I met you, you would have never done something like that. And you were perfect. You want to know why I cried?”</p><p>Seokmin blinks rapidly and he wishes they'd left at least the lamp on so he could see Jeonghan's face clearly. “Why?”</p><p>“There were so many times you told me things you were afraid of and it was so <em> frustrating </em> because nothing I would have said to you would have worked. You’ve never seen yourself the way the rest of us see you. So I cried the whole time because you looked confident. Like you knew you were supposed to be up there. I’ve always thought you were the most talented one in the group and now I think everyone else is getting to see that, too. Maybe including you.” Jeonghan’s lips unfurl like petals around his smile and his eyes crinkle up at the corners. </p><p>Seokmin chalks it up to being overtired and coming down off the roller coaster hill high of adrenaline, but there’s a lump in his throat. He blinks back tears, which Jeonghan, of course, spots immediately.</p><p>“Oh don’t cry,” Jeonghan laughs sadly and it’s so utterly kind that it only makes Seokmin want to cry more. “You can’t cry because I’ve already cried too much tonight and I don’t want to cry anymore.”</p><p>It’s too late. Seokmin can feel tears prickling in the insides of his eyes. He tries to hide them by pulling Jeonghan close, tucking him close to his chest, resting his chin to the top of his head. In this position he can’t hide, however, the way his heart floats in his chest. Jeonghan must hear the way it thuds like beating wings.</p><p>“I’m not going to stop trying to make you realize how perfect you are you know. I’m going to be <em> very </em> annoying.” Jeonghan says against his throat. His words are tight.</p><p>Seokmin laughs. “I’m never going to get annoyed with you.”</p><p>“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”</p><p>“This one I plan on keeping.” </p><p>Jeonghan settles against him and he fits there so perfectly. Seokmin can't sleep. He spends hours drifting in and out of consciousness, waking to find Jeonghan's hair tickling his nose or him drooling on his upper arm. He passes the time by breathing him in, memorizing the silhouetted curves of his skin in the darkness. And if Lee Seokmin is in love with Yoon Jeonghan that is between him and the ghost he thinks haunts his room.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><a href="https://twitter.com/lithomancy">my twitter</a> / <a href="https://curiouscat.qa/lithomancy">my curiouscat</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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